One, Two, Three, Four
by KiwiDayDreams
Summary: Shepard can't dance. Mordin is determined to teach her how. Spoilers for end of Mass Effect 2. Mordin x FemShepard. Fluff.


"If intended to try human, would try you." - Mordin to Shepard, Mass Effect 2

A/N: My first Mass Effect fic! There's not enough Mordin love - so here's my contribution! :) Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Shepard rested her cheek on her palm as she finished checking her messages in her quarters. Things had really quieted down in the past few months and, truthfully, she was thankful for it. The whole business with the Collectors had been weighing heavily on her, and the minds of her crew. She knew that things were far from concluded; it was never so easy. The image of the Human-Reaper larvae still clung to the back of her mind and often took the spotlight in her worst nightmares. It had been destroyed but that did not null the fact that it showed just what the Reapers were capable given the right means. She shuddered at the thought of what they might have in store for the future.

But none of that was to be the focus of tonight. She shrugged up her shoulders and shook off the eerie feeling that had crawled up her spine. No; they had finally decided that it was time to celebrate, her team-mates and her crew on the Normandy. It was time to just pretend that there would be no impending doom looming over them for one evening. Time to enjoy the finer things in life with friends, to celebrate living. It was a miracle, but they were all alive tonight. If that wasn't worth celebrating, she didn't know what was.

She could only hope the presence of alcohol and festivities wouldn't cause a certain Krogan to break another of the glass panes in her ship, or worse. Getting to her feet, Shepard wandered out towards the elevator, idly wondering if Krogans had a drinking age limit - not that anyone would stop one from drinking long enough to ask.

* * *

The Normandy was abuzz with activity when Shepard finally made her rounds down to the bridge. Even Jeff was away from his cockpit, seated in a chair out with the other crew members, a drink firmly in his hand. He must have been thankful that EDI could pilot the ship on her own as it gave him plenty of excuse to get as hammered as he pleased. He gave her a wave as she passed and returned to talking between EDI and Kelly. Shepard mused inwardly at how much of a lady's man Joker was appearing at a glance, whether or not one of them was an AI. Kelly seemed to be enjoying his snarky humor as she hadn't stopped smiling since Shepard had entered the room.

She made rounds through the bridge, greeting her squad-mates as she saw them. Garrus, Jacob and Thane were discussing past experiences from what she could hear over the noise. Tali and Legion were sitting with Kenneth and Gabby, going through who knew what round of Skyillian Poker. Legion appeared to be winning and it seemed Tali was ready to accuse him of cheating. That's what they got for inviting Geth to a card game, Shepard chuckled. Not surprisingly, Jack and Miranda were at separate ends of the room, Jack partaking in a drinking contest against Grunt, while Miranda chatted with Samara. Shepard hoped inwardly that Jack and Grunt would pass out before they got too riled to cause any major damage. She hadn't seen either of them drunk and really hoped she wouldn't have to any time soon.

Giving the room another once over, she noticed someone was missing. Thrilled at the chance to get away from the busy-ness off it all, she ducked out to head down to the lab and see what Mordin was doing. She wandered the halls near the lab and armory, the quiet hum of the Normandy soothing her. As she came upon Mordin's lab she heard the Salarian humming and hawing to himself as he often did, and opened the door. Sure enough there he was, tapping away at the hologram screens and looking quite submerged in his current project. Clasping her hands behind her back, she wandered in as she usually did. He never seemed to mind her intrusions, and would tell her if he was too busy to talk, so knocking seemed unnecessary. It seemed appropriate that while everyone was socializing, Mordin would be leagues deep in his research. It was still hard to believe he had once been a stage performer, despite the Gilbert and Sullivan.

"Hello, Mordin," she greeted, stopping in front of his desk.

"Greetings, Shepard," he quipped. "What brings you? Certainly, you would rather be at the festivities?"

"Honestly? People aren't my thing; at least, not when they're in large groups," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hm. Logical, considering it is usually large groups trying to kill you," he said with an understanding nod. Shepard smirked a little.

"Sort of. Why aren't you up there?"

"Still much work to do. Still many problems to be solved," he replied, never halting his work as he spoke.

"Don't you ever get tired of thinking so much?" she chuckled.

"Hm. Sometimes, though sleep hinders productivity. Need very little of it, so able to use time more effectively," he explained.

"Makes sense," Shepard said with a nod. "Well, if you don't mind I'll just stay down here awhile; maybe until things quiet down."

"Perfectly fine, Shepard," Mordin said. Over the intercom, music similar to that featured at Afterlife began to filter into the room. Shepard and Mordin looked up at this and she groaned a little.

"I suppose I should have figured there would be music. Glad I got away early."

"No taste for music, Shepard?" Mordin asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Thought humans enjoyed dancing. Often seen them on the dance floor at various establishments." Shepard rubbed the back of her head, a little sheepish.

"It's not that. Just...at parties music means dancing. I don't really dance."

"No?"

"No," she shook her head. "I was taught to shoot things, not to shake what 'God-gave-me', as it's been said." She looked up at him and he looked back at her with a blink or two, standing silent. "What? Don't tell me you dance, too?"

"Actually-"

"That's something I really didn't expect," she said, suddenly trying to picture Mordin getting busy on the dance floor in an Asari manner. She shook her head and suddenly felt like she had broken part of her brain in attempting to form the thought.

"It is part of artistic culture, and performance," he explained, simply, moving out from behind his desk and folding his hands. "Can show you, if you like."

"What, me?" Shepard asked, gesturing to herself. She suddenly felt embarrassed for some reason. Mordin looked at her puzzled, as there was obviously no one else in the room, so of course he meant her. Shepard's jaw dropped open and gaped once or twice before her inner commander jumped back in and caused her to straighten up properly. "I suppose, that would be interesting," she answered honestly. Mordin gave a nod and moved to the panel on the wall.

"Hardly appropriate music, however. Must find something more suitable." He fingered through the stations and found something more classical sounding. Shepard didn't recognize it, though she did hear the familiar tune of a piano which made her relax. Somehow this suited Mordin a bit more, and the awkward vision in her head melted away. Now, all she had to contend with was the nervousness that tickled at her limbs insisting that she would be a complete idiot at dancing. Get ready to be embarrassed, they giggled. "Ah." He clasped his hands together again, pleased with the selection. Turning back towards her he approached her. "Come."

"Are you sure?" she said, trying not to sound evasive. "Aren't there 'still many problems to be solved'?"

"Yes. Will always be problems. Way of universe. But - always time for making life more cultured. Come," he insisted, holding one of his three fingered palms out to her.

"Kay," she murmured, clenching her teeth and laying a hand into his.

"Hand here," he said, gesturing to his opposite shoulder. "Will dance something originating from your home world. Will be very enriching and educational." He was instructing her into a typical waltz dancing posture; that much she could recognize, though it did not dissolve her anxiousness. "Good," he said. "Now, count." With his hand at her waist and the other holding grasping hers to the side, he ushered her backward carefully. "Back. Step one." The commander awkwardly slid her foot backward and stumbled back onto the other as he came forward. Great start, she thought. Mordin didn't laugh. "Do not slide. Step. Count, one-two. Move feet as such. Try again," he said calmly. Shepard nodded and glanced down at her feet as they made the attempt again. She hoped she wasn't turning red. Mordin coaxed her back once again, slower. "One...two...," he counted. She stepped back once and then twice, much less clumsy this time.

"Okay," she said with a breath.

"Good. Now, to the side, three-four. Like this." He pulled away from her to demonstrate all four movements. She watched him, or rather his feet, and nodded. He came back and they resumed their positions. "Ready. And...one...two...three...four," he instructed, guiding her along. Shepard continued to watch her booted feet, willing them to not trip or tangle. Unknowingly, she began to mouth the numbers as he said them. Mording cautiously moved her back, to the side, and forward again until it seemed she had found the strength in her legs again. "Good," he said, almost sounding proud. The Commander lifted her head at his praise and couldn't help but grin a little. The scientist couldn't help but smile at how thrilled she seemed to be. He appreciated that she seemed to be enjoying the lesson. He loved to teach, after all. After she seemed to grasp the box step, he decided to challenge her by moving to a turning box step that would give their dance more flow. Again, she stumbled a little, but managed to follow his lead given a few more repetitions.

"This isn't so bad," she finally commented, once they had begun moving fluidly.

"Excellent, in fact," Mordin replied. "Very pleased. Learn quickly." Shepard smiled with a little bit of pride and a little bit of bashfulness she usually didn't exhibit. After they completed another round, Mordin stopped and pulled his hands back. "Ah. Very pleasant. Have not danced in a while."

"Are we done?" Shepard asked, her face reflecting genuine disappointment.

"Certainly, you have more important matters," Mordin pointed out.

"It's just a party," she replied. "Besides..," she straightened up. "I was always taught to practice until I had perfected my skill." Mordin looked at her a moment and folded his hands, studying her a little. She maintained her militaristic posture and expression, folding her hands behind her back.

"Admirable attitude," Mordin finally said. "Cannot abandon my pupil." He nodded with confidence and lifted his arms again to return to their previous posture. He almost chuckled when his Captain's own posture immediately gave way to that of their dance. She was eager to learn, and that pleased him a great deal. It was also nice that she was open to things she had never tried before, and thus she was much easier to teach. Shepard smothered a grin that threatened to cross her lips the entire time when they began moving again. After a short time, she insisted Mordin no longer count so she could do the dance properly. Mordin also pointed out that she should cease staring at her feet while dancing and continually reached up to tap under her chin to make her lift her head when her eyes drifted down again.

Shepard eventually managed to keep her head up, though it seemed awkward to not look directly at Mordin's large, dark eyes. Her eyes wandered the structure of his face, looking at the scar on his cheek, or just at the tones of his skin. It was really no wonder some of the other species found his colors attractive - they were really quite pretty in all the whites and reds. Her mind drifted as the motions became second nature. Mordin was an excellent lead, his motions just dominant enough so she didn't fall out of step. It felt more like he was guiding her rather than controlling her, and that allowed her to relax. Truthfully, Shepard had always figured if she tried this sort of thing she would be too tempted to do the leading, as she was not really a follower. It must have just depended on the teacher, she supposed. He was probably the most cultured and easy-going one on board. It was really a nice change sometimes.

"Distracted, Shepard?" Mordin prompted, though he continued moving. Shepard shook herself out of the reverie, looking back at him. She smiled.

"Just thinking how pretty your eyes are, Mordin," she teased.

"Appreciate the compliment," he replied, though he looked a little confused as the comment was out of nowhere. Shepard's smile widened with amusement at his puzzlement.

"Of course," she said. "And you are an excellent dancer. I am no longer surprised."

"Mere flattery, Commander," he said.

"Not at all," she insisted, honestly. He paused and slowed their steps.

"Your eyes also pleasant to view," he finally said, seeming to have felt he needed to return the compliment. Shepard finally brought their dance to a stop and pulled her hands back with a chuckle.

"You are a sweet talker, Mordin," she said, good-humoredly.

"Only ever speak the truth, Shepard," he replied with a small shrug. Once more, she smiled, though more genuine and soft.

"I believe you." She approached him, placed a small, friendly kiss on his scarred cheek, and then moved past him to go. "Thank you for the lesson, Mordin. We should do it again. You should probably get back to your work, I suppose."

"Should." He gave a small nod to both comments and watched her leave the lab. What was that all about, he wondered. Her demeanor had suddenly become so relaxed, so carefree. Perhaps the dance lesson was a very good thing for her, just what she needed. If this was true then it would be a good idea to continue such things. After all, he would enjoy sharing his knowledge of such things with her. As he moved back to his work he considered that he might ask her if he could run some tests on her hormone levels after a lesson. It might give him some insight into her change in mood. What puzzled him is he was certain he had begun to smell something similar to female human pheromones near the end of their dance. Quite peculiar, he thought. It would be something worth pursuing.


End file.
